Nightmare
by BigIrishKing
Summary: Thor is plagued with countless nightmares. Nightmares that leave his body bruised.


**Author's Note: **You must picture Thor saying, "I'm uh...lucky God?" in Miguel's voice from _The Road to Eldorado._

* * *

Thor awoke with a rather violent shudder, only to find himself curled up tightly, body forming a make-shift ball beneath his blankets, instinctively trying to void off the terrible chill that had wafted into his bed-chamber. The cool air struck the Prince as rather odd, for it was in the middle of the warmer seasons, and he had no real use for any coverings as of recent nights. Yet, here he was, trembling to the point of his teeth clacking together against a cold he couldn't understand.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes quickly, he managed to uncurl just enough to crane his neck in a sweep of the room, slowly registering the fog that seemed to pool above the floor, an eerie feeling knotting itself in the pit of his frozen stomach. Every intake of breath stung, lungs prickling due to the temperature as his eyes threatened to water.

No, none of this made any sense at all, and though amidst the daylight and among his friends, Thor would boast about being the fearless God of Thunder, he was quietly cursing to himself in weariness. When strange things happened such as this in Asgard, it could mean many things, but none of them good. It wasn't until his gaze made it to the one window in his chamber, the one which lead out to a beautiful balcony, that he realized just how awful the situation really was, and that he had every reason to be afraid.

The shudders were wide-open, the galaxies from outside giving just enough light to take in the form standing in the door frame. Pulsing, red irises were looking right back at him with sharp intent, the sockets held within a face giving away nothing but stoic interest. Thor could just make out the silhouette of two jagged horns protruding from the head of the _Jotun_ standing on the threshold of his room, and he didn't need to see the frost-bitten flesh or peculiar designs to realize the man was actually a Frost Giant, despite the fact he seemed rather small and lanky to be such a menacing creature.

Nonetheless. There was a _Frost Giant_ in his room, not to mention Asgard in general!

The slumber he had previously been in weighed on his reaction time, and it took the Prince a few moments for the realization to hit him full force, and adrenalin making the chill more than bearable, Thor pushed himself up against the headboard of his bed, body language instantly defensive as his face turned to stony suspicion and anger.

There was a beat of silence, both men studying one another with two very different thought processes. Before The God of Thunder could even formulate a proper question however, his intruder was speaking with a voice as cool as his features, but there was no menace there. "No need to be irrational, Prince of Asgard. I have not come to lay harm on anyone, nor do I wish to start a war." Just truth.

If anything, Thor was known for being rather naive, his heart was certainly made of gold, and after studying his intruder for a moment longer, relaxed just a fraction. After all, had the Frost Giant truly wanted to wreak havoc, there were much more devastating ways to go about it. He was still weary, but more so for the true reason of the Jotun's presence, and no longer his own life or Asgard's safety. Taking a moment to clear his throat, shoulders still noticeably tense, the Prince decided to ask a rather simple question.

"Why?"

Alright, so, he could've specified just a bit, but, with the adrenalin slowly calming in his veins, the cold atmosphere around them was beginning to eat at his mind.

"I wish for your company, dear Prince. Nothing more." He blamed the shudder that rolled down his spine on the ice settling within the chamber, and not the lilt the Juton's voice had suddenly adapted, the intruder practically sauntering passed the shudders and actually entering the room.

Thor was no foreigner to sexual advances, nor was he a foreigner to sex in general. He was a prince after all, and he'd had multiple lovers of either gender, experiences ranging from sloppy and pathetic to memorable. And, something in the back of his mind was waving a tiny red flag, one that told him that by "company," the other was referring to something a bit more than just an innocent chat. But, if this Jotun was so desperate for the company of another, why go through the hassle of invading Asgard and his kingdom? Surely, there were plenty of available souls back on Jotunheim. Yet, this one had specifically sought him out, and the Asgardian would be lying if he said he wasn't terribly intrigued.

"What is your name?" Once more, Thor opted for the simpler questions, and he didn't need to see the smirk on his intruder's face. _He heard it._

"I am Loki, son of Laufey, Prince of Jotunheim." Loki was now standing at the foot of the bed, hands grasping the foot board with frozen, nimble fingers as his eyes playfully, expectantly, bored down onto the fellow prince.

There was another beat of silence, one in which the God of Thunder had inhaled sharply, and promptly forgotten how to breathe. Standing a mere three feet or so away from him was just about the second largest threat Asgard had ever encountered. And he was _flirting_ with him. Thor though, also heard the challenge in those words, and blue eyes slowly squinted as he exhaled in a slow sigh, suddenly realizing that he was practically naked, save for the blanket covering his waist. Alas, it was not his bare skin that bothered him; it was the fact of how vulnerable said skin was. Though, he could call Mjolnir if it absolutely came to that, he had no other form of protection.

"Remember, Odinson. I am not here to pose a threat." Black nails haughtily tapped against wood, the action momentarily catching Thor's attention, and Loki took the opportunity to use a little bit of magic, snapping the fingers of his free hand whilst a single candle in the room flamed simultaneously with the sound. Being a prince himself, he was entitled to a little bit of trickery.

And, with the extra amount of light, the two were finally able to properly study each other, various eyes doing quick once-overs or slower double-takes, depending on where they looked. On Thor's half, he quickly decided that, even for a Frost Giant, Loki was far from unattractive. The Jotun Prince had the average skin-tone, adorned with intricate markings that each one is born with, traveling from his feet to the tip of his horns. His hair and nails were black as night, but his stance was languid. _Graceful_, even, which shocked the Asgardian. Lean and regal. Not the common build, especially for one of pure blood. His clothing was minimal, for they were unaffected by their own climate; just a simple, rose robe with a belt, the gown wide on his shoulders, exposing the upper part of his chest.

When electric blue met crimson, Odinson could only assume Loki had thoughts that weren't too far different from his own, but neither of them voiced such ideas. Not just yet. Instead, Loki gave a quick wave of a hand, remaining silent as the shudders behind them closed shut, leaving them in complete privacy. It was another few seconds before Laufeyson squared his shoulders back in one fluid motion, head tilted just a tad upward as he gazed down at the other prince.

"I am aware of the rift our two realms have, and furthermore, the rift between our fathers. I like to think though, that I am _not_ my father. His emotions and ideas are not genetic, thankfully, and I have formed my own. I hope I am not too far off to assume you think likewise of yourself? If so, I am _highly_ interested in forming a…truce, if you will." Lean arms crossed over his chest, and the smirk didn't appear on his face until the end of his proposal, hip jutted outward in the slightest cocky mannerism.

At first, Thor could only silently agree that Loki was nothing like his father, for picturing Laufey in such a position was both terrifying and comical, while the prince here made the pose look natural and damn appealing. Nor did the obvious innuendo float over his head. The Frost Giant was definitely propositioning a night of adultery, and the shudder that crawled through the Asgardian's skin was most definitely _not_ induced from the coolness of the chamber. It only took a few more seconds for the God of Thunder to rake his eyes over the expectant form before him to make a decision.

If anything, this might be the step they need to take to calm the tension between their realms, at least, that's the excuse he gave himself as the words left his lips. "I can hardly imagine my father condoning such an idea. But, as you stated, I am not him…_thankfully_." And, Thor finally decided to let the tension drop completely from his body, trusting the prince that had invaded his room, even if that trust would be the death of him.

This wasn't a war. It was a _compromise._ No weapons were needed. Just signatures. Just consent, and that had been willingly given. Now all that was left was fulfillment. Both men hesitated at that, gaze holding each other's until Thor gently scooted over, patting the now empty space beside himself on the bed in invitation. Loki gave a hasty nod before padding over to the edge of the furniture, silently sitting himself adjacent to the Asgardian Prince with a hum. The Jotun seemed nervous, almost, and the God of Thunder instantly clicked into the mode of lover. But, it wasn't forced like it had been with various others he'd shared a bed with. No, when it came to the intruder, he found himself contently easing into the role, _wanting_ to love Loki, for reasons he didn't understand, and probably wouldn't.

Tentatively, he reached up a hand, ghosting his fingertips along the sharp features of the intruder's jaw, expecting to shudder from frozen flesh. To his surprise though, the skin beneath his digits was cool, but nowhere near the temperature he'd expected. He took notice of the small sigh Laufeyson released, eyes glancing up to catch the look of content spreading over those angles. Spurred on by the response, Thor gently cupped Loki's cheek in his hand, thumb gently rubbing beneath a warm, red eye, following the intricate birthmarks before he noticed them vanishing.

Eyes widening, the two suddenly stilled, Thor's hand practically glued to the Frost Giant's face as what was once blue tinged skin warmed in color and degree, the pale flesh of an average man creeping out from beneath the Asgardian's palm. The designs faded, and as the transformation crept up, wide, flabbergasted crimson changed to a color as deep as the olives grown in Asgard.

This wasn't one of Loki's tricks. He'd yet to crack transformation magic, though he'd been practicing, nothing like this had ever happened to the Jotun Prince. As a warmth he was unfamiliar with buzzed from the area cradled by calloused fingers, he visibly shuddered, for the first time in his life, he realized just how cold he naturally was. But, he wasn't cold where Thor touched him, and suddenly, all he wanted was to be filled with that feeling. He wanted to be warm, he wanted to be _wanted_, not seen as some monster. His father had caused that, caused their race to be hated. He was tired of being hated, and here someone was, Prince Odinson no less, far from hating him. He was momentarily loving him.

Flickering his gaze over to the prince in which he had so spontaneously invaded, Loki didn't care about what his face portrayed. He didn't care if Thor could see through him, right to his cold little soul. He was sure his vulnerability, his need and sorrow were all clear, but he didn't fear rejection or disgust from the warm man. And, he didn't receive anything negative. In fact, Thor reached up his free hand and cradled Laufeyson's head completely in his palms, watching in silent awe as horns turned to a shimmering gold and a tinge of pink made itself known beneath pale cheeks. The God of Thunder was quickly questioning what there was to fear of these Frost Giants, for Loki was appearing to be so far from the monster told to keep children in bed at night. Even blue and frozen though, he'd thought that. He was a prince, a prince wanting change, and Thor was more than happy to give him that.

And, as the two gazed at each other, Loki suddenly realized he no longer wanted to be warm. He wanted to be _hot._ Heated from the inside until his skin might sear off. He wanted every shiver, every noticeable exhale to diminish into nothing but flames and a heat that left his vision white. He needed to _burn_. And, Thor must've caught onto his urgency, because without further ado, he snuck his tongue out to wet his lips and pressed a chaste, first kiss to the fellow prince's lips.

There wasn't any tongue, not yet, but lips quivered as lungs hitched. Thor's hands gently slid back, the pads of his thumbs pressing just a bit against Loki's ears as the rest of his fingers curled into black locks. And, from the touch, the Jotun's neck warmed and paled, color tingeing all the way down to his exposed shoulders as markings vanished. It didn't take long for his actions to be recuperated, and nimble fingers gently grazed his facial hair, causing him to shudder and hum just loud enough to be heard, head tilting into the fingers, subsequently deepening the kiss whilst doing so.

And then tongues were meeting, rolling together and lapping at bottom lips, and that was some of the heat the Frost Giant had been searching for. There was no chill in that kiss, just warm breath and soft flesh and damp muscle. No rejection, nor monstrosity, just some of the purity the Prince of Asgard naturally radiated. Teeth slowly followed, and Loki was almost shocked by the sounds coming from his own throat as his eyes peeled open, unaware that they had slipped shut in the first place. He had never had a lover before, not that he'd tell that to the man he'd intruded on. Back on Jotunheim, sexual activities were usually reserved for procreation alone. He just hoped such a fact wouldn't make itself known in his inexperience.

Thor, however, didn't take any notice of it as he slowly lied back, humming in warm approval as Loki followed his lead and straddled his waist. The God of Thunder was still completely bare beneath his blanket, the fact evident in the way the cloth began to tent just a little bit above the stirrings in Odinson's nether regions. The two had yet to break apart, tongues still mingling until they could no longer breathe properly; for some reason it was hard to remember such a trivial need when arousal and need hazed their minds. When the two finally parted though, it was with a soft sound of release, and the Prince of Jotunheim fluttered his eyes open to gaze at the other with bloated pupils and a lewd smirk.

"My, my. What would our parents think?" His voice was octaves lower, though a playful tune carried the question out, and Thor couldn't help but return the smirk, fingers weaving through dark hair.

"I'm uh…lucky god?" The statement received a roll of olive eyes, before the two were chuckling and kissing again, this time much sloppier and more fervent. The Frost Giant held little evidence of his heritage by now, the last inches of blue skin warming down by his toes from all of the contact. Despite their different species, Thor knew instantly there shouldn't be much difference in the genitals department when the Jotun prince rested their waists together, and he felt the rather prominent bulge pressing down onto his own, eliciting an anxious hum from the god.

Clothing was quickly removed after that, though the task proved to be a tad difficult when Loki's robe got caught on his own horns, causing the Frost Giant to snicker until he'd been freed, Thor tossing the garment with a stubborn huff. And then, they were both naked. Naked, and hard, and the blanket between them was doing very little except for annoying the two, and thus it was quickly removed by Loki's hand this time, and then there was more staring.

While Odinson took the moment to truly appreciate his companion's body as a whole, from lean shoulders to a lithe waist, Laufeyson was openly and shamelessly staring down at Thor's cock, his horns almost grazing the Asgardian's neck due to the angle. With all the lovers the God of Thunder had had, none of them had ever openly _gawked_ at him. He had to fight the open opportunity to tease the other prince, but any comment he could've made died in his throat when long digits gently curled around his stiff member, causing him to grunt softly.

Thor didn't know it, but the reason for Loki's staring could've been chalked up to the fact he was a virgin, after all. But, he was also a quick learner, and it didn't take long for the Jotun Prince to catalogue every response the movement of his hand received, and he eventually had a pattern down that had the God of Thunder gripping at his bed and bucking uncontrollably beneath himself. Every so often, Thor would thrust rather roughly, and his abdomen would brush up against the Frost Giant's, and he'd gasp and shudder in response. But, neither of them wanted the night to end in such a way, for Loki still wasn't hot enough. He needed it to start smoldering soon, or he might very well lose it.

But, the foreplay had been convenient, for he used the small amount of precum to lather up Thor's cock which would ease the pain just enough, hopefully. But, he didn't use any other preparation. He didn't want to waste time, and besides, pain could be oh, so welcomed in such situations.

Loki bit his lip for just a moment, eyeing the god beneath him before an idea struck him. He wanted Thor to remember this. Even though, in the pit of his stomach, he knew what must be done. But, for the moment, he pushed such dark thoughts away, and welcomed the ones he hoped would leave the Asgardian stunned with pleasure. He had chosen him, specifically, after all.

Releasing his lips with a sultry hum, he slid his hands from Thor's shoulders, down his chest, palms rubbing pert nipples just for a moment before black nails left red trails down a slightly hairy abdomen. And, the pale fingers didn't stop their trek there, but kept going, down tan thighs until his hands were behind himself, placed on the bed between the other prince's legs. His back curled in a wonderfully fluid arch, eyes closing as his head fell back. It truly was a beautiful display, skin taught over flexed muscles, and Odinson found his mouth going dry as he wondered how Loki wasn't a god himself, those thin hips now positioned just barely over his weeping penis. He knew they were practically doing it without any stretching or tools to help ease, but Thor could only guess that's what Laufeyson wanted, and deciding to indulge, he reached down to grasp to supple, but firm cheeks into his hands, gently separating the muscles to make it a little easier for penetration. The hiss his actions received sounded far from pained, and he hoped that noise would echo in his brain long after this impromptu night.

And then Loki was lowering himself, practically _forcing_ himself onto the fellow prince, crying out brokenly in more pain that pleasure, but he never stopped. Didn't even dare until he had Thor fully sheathed inside him, body trembling as his knuckles burned white as they fisted the bed beneath them. His eyes were shut tight, holding back tears, lips parted in haggard pants, but it was burning, it burned so, so much, and it was a feeling he never wanted to forget. It was his first burn, and it felt perfectly terrible. He couldn't see it, but Thor was nearly in tears, too, but from a pleasure he hadn't experienced in his life before. The clenching around his member was almost tight enough to the point of unbearable, but not quiet, and it had his hands shaking in trying to control himself.

The two didn't move for quite a while, both trying to regain some of their senses, but when one had decided to move, it had been Loki. Lifting his hips, he rolled down onto Thor's cock in a motion damn close to a perfect wave, crying out softly as the burning persisted, though not as painful as it had been at first. Had the Prince of Asgard been able to talk, he might've commented on how attractively graceful his companion was, but all that came from his throat was a startled groan, eyes wide in surprised bliss, too distracted by the sight before him to shut.

Soon enough, both men were gasping and trembling, pace remaining tortuously slow, though they both would've loved to speed up, for some reason they just couldn't get themselves to break the current rhythm. At some point, Loki had doubled over, nails desperately digging into Thor's shoulders and the God of Thunder cradled him to his body as they rocked. It might've been silly, but seeing as a pair of golden horns was the closest thing to his face, he began to shower the appendages with warm, open-mouthed kisses. Laufeyson would have returned some of the affections, had he not been crying from all of it. From how his insides scorched oh so deliciously, or the sweat that dripped from his body, everything was completely knew and foreign to his natural body, and he was giving it to the one person he felt worthy of it. The one person to not run from fear, who boasted about laughing at the childish horror stories of frost Giants. His abdominal muscles were growing taught, blackened nails digging into course flesh and drawing blood as he neared his climax, lungs practically stopped from the intensity of everything. And then Thor stopped, buried deep inside him, and for a moment everything was still, both men barely grazing the edge for a treacherous moment, and then the Prince of Jotun decided to push them both over, and with a silent whimper, he clenched around the God inside him, and they both reached completion with a thunderous force.

Everything was white and warm, in their minds and on their stomachs, any chill left over from the Frost Giants entrance completely melted away. The two were heaving for proper air; chests rapidly moving against one another's seeing that Loki had collapsed on the god. Neither of them spoke as they came down from the heavens, it seemed, aside from a few groans and hums. And then, the Jotun gingerly pulled himself off of Odinson, gasping from the loss, the feeling both pleasurable and awful. But, before he could even think about leaving, warm, musky arms were pulling him back down into a lazy embrace, and he couldn't help but smile as lazy, tender kisses were placed to his horns. It was an odd affection, but far from unpleasant.

The two stayed like that for a long while, occasionally indulging in a soft caress, or gentle rub. Another kiss or two were exchanged, and the reality of the situation was hanging heavily in the air as dawn approached. Loki couldn't stay, no matter how much he wanted to. Their worlds were at war, after all, and their parents probably wouldn't see their night of passion as a truce at all. Once again, it was Loki who moved first, gently peeling himself away from his lover in order to wobbly get up off the bed. Thor watched with a slight melancholy expression, though it wasn't until the Frost Giant began to redress himself that he spoke.

"Loki? What exactly…is this?" The question was hesitant, and spoken so softly, Thor worried he might have to repeat it.

But, no, Loki had heard, and as his features slowly began to darken, eyes brightening to a piercing red, he turned to give the god an empty smile. "This? Oh, Thor. This is nothing but a nightmare." And, with a snap of his fingers, the room was cascaded into darkness once more, and Thor lost the battle against a terrible sleepiness he hadn't even realized he held, his world quickly fading as he lost consciousness.

The frost Giant silently padded over to the shudders that lead to the balcony, releasing a small, heavy sigh as he gave the slumbering Asgardian one last, lungful gaze. Though everything around himself was cooling, including his skin, his insides still held a warmth he hoped to never lose. As for Thor, it had to be done. If he remembered, it could lead both kingdoms into danger.

He was such a naive god, after all.

And thus, using the shadows as his cover, Loki Laufeyson vanished into the night, returning to his rightful role as Prince of Jotunheim.

—

Thor woke up feeling rather sore, blinking his eyes blearily as he gazed around his room. The sun cast his bed-chamber into warm colors of gold and oranges, definitely a pleasant sight. As he gradually woke up himself up, his muscles groaned in protest, and he could only blame the rather aggressive spar he'd had with his friends a few days prior. But, upon sitting up, he reached up a hand to absentmindedly scratch at his chest, only to hiss in pain. Glancing down, he could barely see the red, angry line of a scratch going along from his shoulder to his pectoral muscle. Gently gliding his fingers along the marks, something stirred in the back of his mind and his heart clenched. It confused him when he felt tears stinging behind his eyelids, and he quickly shook the feelings away.

Remnants of a bad dream.

The same nightmare he'd now been having for weeks, he guessed, if only he could remember the images whilst awake..


End file.
